


a wonderful part of the mess that we made

by ghoulisms



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, M/M, everyone is alive and well and happy fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:31:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulisms/pseuds/ghoulisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au. liam likes to go to the roof to think. scott goes at first for the quiet. then he goes for liam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a wonderful part of the mess that we made

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'flaws' by bastille, ,,,  
> this was also inspired loosely by [this](http://kihongleez.tumblr.com/post/96825938171/there-is-nothing-prettier-than-a-city-at-5-am-with)  
> :*

Scott first sees him when the stars are out, the wind howling in his ears like a lost wolf. 

The boy is lying on his back, and Scott is scared of frightening him, of making him jump and startle and look up, run away. He just came up here to get away from the party; that’s the last thing he wants to do, invade someone’s privacy, make them leave while he sits there, bathing in the silence that they left behind.

But Scott stubs his toe and the sound echoes around the empty air, and the boy looks up above him, eyes wide and nose pink.

“Um,” Scott says, and he feels his face brightening and warming. He’s holding onto his foot, leaned against a railing that he never noticed before.

“What—” The boy’s voice is quiet, the words tumbling out into the air, spilling themselves at their feet. Scott stares at the ground as if they’re actually there for a second, mind hazy and eyes unblinking.

“I’ll just—I’m so, so, sorry, man. I didn’t know anyone was up here, and the music was too loud downstairs and my friend’s dorm was locked and I remembered that there’s a roof where I could go and then,” Scott takes a deep breath. “I just, yeah. I didn’t mean to disturb you, or anything. Sorry,”

And he turns around, starts walking, his foot throbbing and the boy’s breathing following him.

“If it’s too loud down there,” It’s the boy’s voice, quiet and Scott thinks he hears something like a small smile in there, hidden in the cracks and crevices, “then you can stay. I never said that you couldn’t.”

Scott ambles over to him, plopping down in the empty space. He feels the shock of fabric against his thigh, looks down to see that their knees and legs bumped. He tries to be subtle about the way he scoots over, leaves the boy a little more room, just in case he doesn’t want to be touched by a stranger.

It’s silent.

Scott folds his hands in his lap.

He listens to the boy breath; light intakes and outtakes, filtering the night air. 

The boy’s silhouette shivers next to him, quivering in the moonlight. He’s all static and sharp edges from the corners of Scott’s vision. Scott feels his mind buzz with two words, something to fill the silence of the night, the blood rushing in through his ears like rain.

“I’m Scott,”

The boy looks over at him, expression shocked and somewhat amused. “Liam,”

Scott hums, moves his legs so that they’re stretched out in front of him. He feels Liam’s eyes on him, gaze heavy and slow like honey. He props his arms behind him. “Is this your first year here?”

Liam makes a noise, the sound drawn out, tumbling into the air like a rope. Scott sees him lie down on his back, arms folded on his stomach. His eyes catch on the pale lines of his fingers in the moonlight, the curve of his stomach, his nose. 

“Yeah,”

“How are you liking everything so far?” 

“It’s... fine, I guess. It’s college,”

It’s quiet after that again, and Scott can hear Liam’s breaths next to him, fogging in the air in smoke, rising up into the darkness like a million ghosts. The stars are out, and they’re bright and shining next to the moon, and when Scott looks down at his arms they illuminate them, tiny pinpricks of silver. 

It smells like vodka and sweat on the roof, the scent wafting in through the cracked door from the dorms below. The air is cold and crisp, and when the wind picks up speed he hears Liam’s breath hitch next to him, just a small thing. 

“You okay?” Scott asks, looking over at him. Liam opens his eyes, his hands tightening around each other on his belly, almost subconsciously. He nods once, just a small twitch of the head, but it’s there.

“Scottie! Scott,” 

The door opens up behind them, the small sliver of yellow light expanding and exploding across the roof. Stiles stumbles out, hair mussed and clothes a mess, his jacket hanging off his shoulders.

“Malia is on the table dancing but she won’t get down,” Stiles hiccups, covering his mouth for a second before slurring out, “and Kira went to her dorm, and she’s studying. I can’t remember the number. Or the floor she’s on.”

Scott looks down, sighs, hangs his head. He looks over at Liam, sees him watching him. Scott smiles apologetically, and Liam nods, but something flashes across his eyes and it’s gone a second later.

Scott stands and follows Stiles out of the door, feeling eyes on his back.

Liam’s eyes are blue.

♡

Scott wakes up to the feeling of a body lying on his stomach, the sunlight hitting him in the face. Everything feels grey and watery and slow, and when he blinks everything is blurry and hazy like a dream. 

Malia’s hair is spread out beneath her, the ends igniting like a candle catching flame. She’s got her face smushed in Scott’s shirt, hands gripping his wrists in her sleep. Scott can hear Stiles above him, snuffles and snores catching in his throat. It seems like he’s the only one who didn’t get drunk last night.

Last night.

Scott feels something rise up in his throat, something rise up in his fingertips. He tries to squash it down but it’s still there, hiding beneath the surface like something ugly, it wants to come out but he won’t let it. It was cold on the roof but the shafts of moonlight were warm and Scott wishes he could’ve talked to Liam a little more. He didn’t even know him before last night, but it seemed right, seemed okay, just being up there with him. He wants to go back.

The door creaks open, and a flash of dark hair peeks out from the edge of the frame. Scott raises his head up, and Kira smiles over at him, beaming.

“Rough night?” she asks, her gaze flittering to Malia and Stiles. Scott holds back a snort.

“You didn’t hear?” he says, and Kira rolls the chair out from underneath the desk. She pulls a face when she sees the papers littered on it, hoists herself up on top of the desk instead. She folds her knees underneath her, stifles a yawn around her words.

“What?”

“Malia was dancing on the table,” Scott says, and Kira’s dark eyes flit over to her. “When we got there she was gonna take off her shoes and jump in the pool,”

Kira’s face softens, and Scott watches the transformation from calm and collected to fond and soft and warm. His stomach flutters at how much he loves her.

“It happens,” Kira says, and Scott hums, smiling a little. It’s quiet after that, the presence of it settling itself around their shoulders like a blanket, a warm sweater.

Kira shuffles around on the desk a little, pulling out the papers beside her, eyes flitting over the text.

“This the studying you gotta do for your test?” 

Scott cranes his neck a little, looking at the small words on the bright paper. He grimaces. “Yeah,” he says, and Kira lifts a corner of her mouth a little. “How’s your studying going?”

Kira shrugs, the movement bunching up the fabric of her sweatshirt. Scott sees that it’s a bit big around her frame, sees the stitching unfurling around the elbows. It’s Malia’s. “I studied all through this morning,” she says, and Scott makes a noise of protest.

“Kir,” Scott says, and his voice is small and quiet in the buzzing air.

Kira shrugs again. “Malia didn’t come back and tell me what time it was,” she says. “Normally she does, before she comes back here to sleep, but I guess she just crashed here ‘cause she was so drunk. And Stiles didn’t come back, so. If someone doesn’t come and tell me what’s going on, I don’t know. Finally realized that it was five in the morning and slept for about fifteen minutes, then drank some coffee, just sat there wondering what everyone did last night, then came here,”

Scott blinks at her, watches the light filtering over her face in shafts. She’s got a small smile on her face, and her eyes flit over to Scott. Scott makes grabby hands at her, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kira raises an eyebrow.

“Come over ‘ere,” Scott says, and Kira continues to stare at him. “You need sleep,”

“Scott, I’m fine,” 

“No,”

“Scott,”

“Malia’s already over here. You didn’t see her last night.”

“And she’s already all on top of you, you don’t need someone else crowding up your bed,”

“We’ve been in piles like this before, with everyone else,”

Kira stares at him, but her eyes flicker over to Malia for a split second. “Puppy piles,” she grumbles, sliding off the desk and stumbling over to where Scott is lying. Scott beams up at her, grabs her forearms once she’s close enough and pulls her down. 

Kira situates herself so that her head is a few inches above Scott’s, Scott’s head tucked to her chest. He wraps his arms around her waist, her hand coming up to his hair. She’s still got a hand holding onto Malia, though, and Scott lets out a little sigh. He’s content.

“Stiles is gonna feel so left out,” Kira says a few minutes later, but her voice sounds far away, as if she’s drifting. Scott smiles into her neck.

“‘s what he gets for leaving you alone last night,” he says, and he feels Kira’s chest rumble with a quiet laugh, mixed in with a hum. “He’s your roommate, I don’t care how drunk he is.”

Kira lets out one last little huff of breath before her chest is rising and falling steadily, her heartbeat thrumming under Scott’s ear. She’s a heavy and warm weight next to Scott, her whole being radiating with comfort and care. 

Malia shifts, her head now resting against Scott’s hip. She curls in on herself, leaving her arms spread out at a length beside her. She’s got her wrist held with Kira’s hand, and Scott closes his eyes.

The sunlight warms his face and Kira’s heartbeat is still loud in his ears, and Stiles still snores. But he drifts.

♡

It’s a while before he sees Liam again.

But he eventually does.

It’s three in the morning and Scott can feel his hands, how they’re shaking with tiny tremors, the paper trembling in the moonlight spilling through the open window. Malia’s been asleep since eleven, crashing on top of her pile of papers on the top bunk. 

But Scott can’t sleep. He can’t go to sleep knowing that his test is just _hours_ away, can’t go to sleep not knowing how he’s going to do. 

His head hurts.

The room is flooded with silver light, pale and cold, and Scott sets his papers down on the wood, brings his hands up to his eyes and rubs them. He can practically hear his bones creak and rumble, the skin of his thighs numb from where they’re cutting off on the edge of the desk. 

He stands, feeling the light on his back, hearing Malia’s soft snuffles and grumbles of sleep. He walks over to her, dragging the chair over to the edge of the bottom bunk, brings his feet up so he’s standing. The chair’s a rolling one and it’s creaky and old, and Scott holds on to the wooden railing of the bed as he pulls a blanket out from under Malia’s feet. 

He picks up the corners, ruffling the fabric out and spreading it out on top of her. She doesn’t move, and when his eyes flit to her face he sees glasses beside her nose. He picks them up, recognizes them as the ones she only wears when she’s tired. Scott can feel his stomach drop, can feel his heart clench as he watches her face, listens to her breathing, looks at the purple circles under her eyes. She’s tired. She’s not getting enough sleep.

Scott takes a deep breath, leans over and presses his lips to her forehead. She snuffles a little, shifts closer to the edge of the bed, and Scott slides off of the chair as quietly as he can and opens the door.

The way to the roof feels foreign but somehow familiar, and the sweater he’s wearing is thin and tight around his shoulders, the tan colour faded and the cotton springy. It’s Stiles’s.

Scott walks until he’s almost at the edge of the roof, the gravel thinning out and becoming less prominent. 

He doesn’t see the dark, shivering silhouette against the moon.

He doesn’t even realize anyone else is out there until he sits down, and there’s that faint brush of fabric against his leg that causes him to look over.

“Hi,” 

Liam’s face is all sharp lines and soft curves in the pale white light, the edges of him blurry and quivering. It comes with his breathing, Scott realizes, he’s not cold. He wonders if he does that too, if he shakes without knowing it when he breathes.

“Hi,” The words fumble over each other, scrambling out into the night air, drifting between them like a secret, a gamble. Liam’s looking over at him, and the edge of his mouth is quirked up, eyes bright and shining. They reflect the surface of the moon. “Why are you up at three am?”

Liam takes a sharp breath in, a quick snort of air for laughter. He turns back to the sky, folding his hands in his lap and placing them between his knees. Scott watches him.

“Why are you?”

“I was studying,” Scott says, and he hears Liam let out a little hum, “I always study late when there’s a big test coming up,”

Liam hums again, and he shifts a little on the ground, taking his hands and folding them inside his shirt, crossing his knees, his ankles. 

“You think you got it all down?” Liam asks, and he turns to look at Scott. Scott blinks, watches Liam raise his eyebrows, his mouth still doing that upward curve. His body is fuzzy from the moon, his hair sticking up oddly as if he’s just woken up; his eyes are a shade lighter in the moonlight, the blues and golds outlined, his eyelashes making spidery shadows down his cheekbones.

“I think,” Scott says, and he turns away. “I’m pretty sure.”

"What do you study?" Liam asks, and Scott ducks his head down. He can feel the rising happiness in him when he thinks about what he wants to be, how he can help.

"I wanna, um, become a veterinarian."

Liam is smiling at him, edges soft and blurry in the moonlight. He hums in the back of his throat. "You sound like you'd be good at it, and I don't even know you."

Scott holds back his smile with difficulty.

It’s quiet after that, just the sounds of their breathing mixing together in the air, pillowing out in front of them like clouds as they breathe. It’s the buzzing kind of silence, the one that Scott can’t decide if it’s comfortable or not. It rings around in his mind, presents itself in his ears with the sound of rain and water, all of it mixing together in his head to form an incoherent sound, a jumble of noise.

He wants to ask why Liam’s out here at three am, but. 

He doesn’t.

He stands up, hearing his bones creak and crunch like leaves, feels Liam’s eyes on him. Scott turns around, meets his gaze.

“I, um, I better,” he says, and he’s waving his arms around in the air, trying to form the right words and piece them together into sentences. Liam’s still looking at him. “I better get back to my roommate. She fell asleep a while ago but she’s always had trouble with staying asleep for long periods of time.”

Liam nods, pursing his lips. Scott turns around again, doesn’t expect anything to be said, anything to be done.

“I better go too,” Liam says from behind him, and Scott hears the scrunching of gravel and rock underneath feet, “I’ve been here for hours. It’s fuckin’ freezing out here,”

Scott feels him sidle up next to him, and Scott watches as he tucks into himself, trying to keep warm against the cold. He wants to help, to offer him something, but all he has is the sweater, nothing else on underneath it. And the sweater has holes in it, in multiple places, so he just sighs and walks with Liam.

It’s not until they’re back in that anybody says anything, and it’s Liam who turns around at the intersection of the hallways. He puts a hand out, just keeps it there, and Scott watches him gather his words.

“I hope you do well on your test,” Liam says, and Scott blinks at him again. “You look like the type of person who _wants_ to help, animal or not. You’d do good.”

And then he walks away. 

Scott stands in the hallway in the same position for about three minutes before he moves.

♡

Scott takes his first exam and exits the classroom, heartbeat swimming in his ears.

Malia is leaning up against the wall, phone held in her hand. She looks up when Scott stands in front of her, hair falling in her face, bun wrapped around her head. She reaches her arm out, placing her phone in her bag, wrapping herself around Scott as they walk.

“So,” she says, her head leaning against his shoulder. “How do you think ya did?”

Scott groans, resisting the urge to reach his hand up into his hair and just pull. “I don’t know, Mal, I think I did well? I studied and stuff, it’s just,”

Malia hums as they take a left, arms still wrapped around Scott from the side. Scott opens their dorm door, feeling the weak sunlight filtering in through the curtains hit his face when he walks to the middle of the room. Malia lets go of him, wandering over to the bathroom. Scott can hear her voice filtering in through the open door over the running water. 

“Wanna help me study some more?”

Scott plops down on his bed, lets out a little hum, closing his eyes, resting his hands over his stomach. He can hear his heart still hammering, can feel the blood rushing through his veins, can feel the nausea rising up in his throat as he thinks about the exam. He takes a deep breath. 

“I mean, I’m not worried about it or anything,” he says, and he can hear Malia let out a small hum as the water clicks off. “I studied, I’ve been studying ever since the professor told us what it would be over, so. But, it’s just those post-test nerves, yaknow? The kind you always get after tests.”

“Oh, yeah,” Malia says, her voice louder and more prominent now as she walks into the room, pulling her shirt over her head. “I always got those. ‘specially in high school. Still do, actually.”

Scott can hear her footsteps echoing across the tile as she walks over to where Scott’s lying down. Scott moves his eyes from the bottom of the bunk above him, shifts his eyes to Malia’s silhouetted form. The sun is beginning to set, just now hitting four pm, and her hair is fluffy and sticking up in the back, her fringe swept to the side messily. Scott sighs, lifts his hands beneath him so he can move over and make room for her.

Malia smiles, pulling her lip between her teeth as she bounces on the bed, curling up against Scott’s side. His hands immediately go to her waist, his arms wrapping around her from the side. He can feel her nuzzle her nose into his neck, take a soft inhale, a rough exhale.

They’ve done this so many times before, with Scott resting his chin on top of Malia’s curls, Malia’s breath puffing out across Scott’s collarbones, warming his skin, her body warm and solid next to his. It’s familiar and Scott can feel something rise up in his belly, go up into his throat, liquidy and warm like nostalgia. 

“You ever think about the future,” Malia’s voice is soft and quiet, spilling out into the lit air, “and get so fucking terrified?”

Scott hums, situating his head a little on top of hers. He can feel the flutter of her eyelashes on his chest, brushing against his collarbones, a butterfly’s wings, barely-there. “Used to,” he says, and Malia makes a small questioning noise in the back of her throat. “But I think I’m doin’ pretty good.”

“I barely made it out of high school, Scott, what am I gonna do?”

Malia’s voice is choked and strained, as if she’s holding back on something. Scott starts moving his fingers in a circular motion on her hip, across her back, tracing the lines and curves there like he’s memorizing a list. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says. “You’ll always be okay. You’re okay now,”

Malia takes a sharp breath in, her grip tightening on Scott’s waist. She tangles their legs together, a spider web of limbs at the end of the bed. 

“Yeah,”

♡

October fades into November and it gets colder.

Kira’s splayed out in the last beams of sunshine on the ground, gloves abandoned in her pockets, Lydia curled up next to her, highlighter in hand. Malia’s arguing with Derek about something, their voices hushed even though it looks like a heated discussion. Stiles has his head lying in Allison’s lap, the shadows playing across his face, making his eyes turn a slow, warm amber. Allison is carding her fingers through his hair, listening to what he’s saying, but when Scott follows her line of vision, she’s looking at Lydia.

The sun’s just starting to rise, and they’re all supposed to be studying but Erica hasn’t arrived, Isaac and Boyd aren’t anywhere in sight. Scott’s got a textbook in his lap, fingers wrapped around a pen, tapping against the hardcover. The sunlight’s shifty and it moves around a lot, and there are shadows spilling at the corners of the world like it’s the only thing it can do. Scott watches a shaft fall over Lydia’s leg, over Kira’s hair.

His eyes catch on a movement near the doors, and he turns and watches. Sees two silhouettes talking, laughing. One of them raises an arm to pat the other’s shoulder, and the other ducks their head. The taller one leaves after that.

The other silhouette continues walking, and Scott can feel his pulse drumming inside his ribcage, inside his veins, when Liam comes into view.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,”

“Where ya goin’?”

Allison looks up at him, eyes shining and hair pulled back into a bun. Stiles has stopped talking, mouth opened around a snore, eyes closed. Allison drags her fingers over his scalp, blinks up at Scott. Scott shrugs, the movement making the fabric of his sweater drag against his skin.

“I see someone I know,” 

Allison’s eyes glint in the sunshine, honey warm and soft. She nods, a fond smile on her face. “Alright. And if you see Boyd, Isaac or Erica, tell them to hurry their asses up.”

Scott nods, gives her a smile and wraps his arms around himself against the wind as he trudges over to where Liam’s walking.

“Hey! Liam!” 

Scott sees Liam look up from the ground, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyebrows raised. He watches as Scott walks up to him, hands still crossed low over his stomach.

“Scott,”

“Hi,” Scott clears his throat a little, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. Liam is still looking at him, a small smile on his face, hands still stuffed in his pockets. 

“How are… how are you?” Scott can feel his eyes widen, and Liam’s biting his lip, swallowing the smile that’s starting to form at the corners of his mouth. Scott frowns. “Sorry, that was stupid. Shit. Okay, um.”

Liam lets out a small sound, a tiny laugh that makes Scott look up, makes the skin on his neck heat up even though it’s cold outside. 

“Hi, Scott,” Liam says, and he shuffles his feet on the pavement without really meaning to. “I’m good. How did that test go?”

Scott shrugs, his stomach settling now that the conversation has taken a turn. “I dunno yet. I studied. Think I did well. I’ll let you know when I find out though, for sure.”

Liam looks down at his feet, looks back up at Scott. His eyes are shining in the sunlight, the golds illuminated, blue standing out from his pale skin. Scott blinks at him. “Alright, that sounds good. But I’m pretty sure you did well.”

Scott can feel himself flush again, opens his mouth to say something, but he hears Lydia’s voice screaming at him from behind. He turns and sees Erica standing there, coffee cups held in her hand, hair wild and jacket hanging off of her shoulder.

“They your friends?” Liam’s voice makes Scott turn around again, and Scott beams at him. Liam smiles back at him, warm around the edges.

“I’ll let you get back to it, then,” he says, and begins to turn around when Scott detangles his arms from each other, reaching one out for Liam.

“You can come, too,” Scott says, and Liam’s eyes are shining still. Scott thinks it’s distracting, how pretty they are. “I mean, if you want.”

Liam’s smirk plays at the edges of his mouth again, and he squints his eyes from the sun that’s beginning to shine down brighter. His eyelashes cast spidery shadows down his face, his nose a sharp line, collarbones a deep hollow at the bottom of his throat. Scott looks hopefully at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

Scott beams again and turns around, Liam following, walking beside him. His hands go back into his pockets and Scott’s go back around his body, and Lydia sits up when they settle down in front of everyone. Erica sits down beside Allison, and Scott sees the coffee cups handed out from the corner of his eyes. Allison beams at Erica, taking the liquid and wrapping an arm around her waist. Isaac and Boyd had arrived, too, and Isaac sits in between Scott and Malia, Boyd taking a seat beside Stiles, who sits up and rubs his eyes, sleep imprinted on his cheek. 

Liam has gone a bit stiff next to Scott, hands in between his knees. It’s probably because of the sudden silence, and Scott brushes his knuckles against Liam’s knee without really meaning to.

“This is Liam,” Scott says, and Liam waves at everyone, mouth curling and uncurling in a small smile. Scott looks around at the group before they’re saying ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s. Liam unfurls his posture a bit, but he’s still strung and stiff, just a little.

“I like your sweatshirt, Liam,” Lydia pipes up, and she adjusts the book in her lap, leaning forward. Scott sees Liam look down at it out of the corner of his eye.

“Thanks,” he says, and Lydia beams at him. Scott sees Allison smiling at her.

“K, so, which subject first?” Malia says, reaching across Derek’s lap for her textbook.

“Whose test comes up first?” Derek says, shifting away from Malia before she can slap him. He cringes, turning his nose up when Malia looks at him. “Jerk.”

“Asshole,”

“Children,” Lydia grabs her book by the corners, looking over at Malia and Derek. But she’s smiling, fond and small. “My test is in a couple of weeks, just over the small things we’ve been over. It’ll be easy,”

Stiles scoffs, snatching the coffee out of Allison’s hands and taking a drink of it. Allison stares at him, hands frozen in mid-air, blinking at him. Stiles hands the coffee back to her. “Of course it’ll be easy for you. You’re Lydia Martin.”

Lydia makes a soft humming noise in the back of her throat, eyes shining and face bright, beaming. 

“Lydia’s, like, a fuckin’ genius,” Stiles says, looking at Liam. Liam raises his eyebrows at him, but he nods once, a small twitch of his head.

“Isaac said his test was, like, in what? Three weeks?” Kira pipes up, and Isaac nods. “Yeah, his is before any of ours.”

“So, Iz, let’s get to studying that law,” Malia reaches for his closed textbook, and Isaac grabs a pen and a piece of paper from his bag.

“What do you study, Liam?” Kira looks over at him, dark brown eyes soft and curious, ignited in the shining sun. Her hair is sticking up in the back from lying in the grass, and the edges of her are blurry in the shadows. Liam shrugs.

“I wanna be a teacher, actually,” 

“What subject?”

“Math,” Scott looks over at him, watches his eyes light up, watches the soft edges of his mouth turn up, his body moving with a nod.

“Oh! That’s cool,” 

“Mmhm,”

Scott continues to stare at him, and he can feel Lydia’s gaze flitter over him all throughout the day.

♡

The sun sets before anyone really pays attention to it, and there are Twizzlers and Sour Patch Kids scattered all over laps and the grass before anyone actually gets up and goes back to their dorm.

It’s just hitting half past four, and Scott heaves his bag on his shoulder, gives everyone a hug and a ‘good luck on your exam’s before he turns back to Liam.

His arms are wrapped around himself, and his silhouette is quivering in the shadows and shafts of light, and when he catches Scott’s eye he gives Scott a small smile. Scott walks over to him, tugging out a sweater from the back of his bag.

“No, man, I can’t do that,” Liam backs away, wraps his sweatshirt tighter around himself. “I have this, remember?”

Scott shakes his head, holding the sweater out a bit more. “Nah, it doesn’t matter. Take it. I don’t mind,”

“How am I gonna wear a sweater and a sweatshirt at the same time?”

Scott lets his shoulders slump a little, his arm going back to his side. He can feel the frown but he can’t stop it.

He hears Liam sigh, and Scott watches as he detangles his limbs from himself before he’s stepping up to Scott, reaching for the grey sweater that he’s still holding.

“Thank you, Scott.”

Scott beams at him, watches the light play over his face along with the shadows, all angles and lines in the fading orange light.

The world is on fire and Scott can feel his belly jump, his heartbeat skitter in his ribcage like a weak monster trying to escape.

“Wanna go get coffee?” Scott asks, and Liam’s eyes flicker with something before he’s smiling at Scott again, and Scott can’t help but stare.

They start walking, Liam’s hands wrapped around the grey sweater, Scott with his hands in his pockets, the fading sunlight hitting their backs and making shadows dance in front of them.

“I know this amazing place, though, oh!” Liam suddenly stops, holding out a hand and grabbing onto Scott’s wrist. Scott freezes, feels the place where Liam’s touching him, and he feels his neck start to heat up, going all the way to his cheeks and ears. Liam doesn’t seem to notice, staring off somewhere over Scott’s shoulder.

“It’s just like, right over there,” Liam says, and his eyes finally shift over to Scott, looking up at him through squinted eyes. “Unless you had somewhere else that we were gonna go..?” 

Scott just stands there for a second, not answering, not doing much of anything. Liam’s still touching him. He shakes his head. “No, no, I was just planning on walking around until I found the campus cafe? We’re going there, though. To your place.”

Liam’s face breaks into pieces and reconstructs itself, all with a smile. He tugs on Scott’s wrist, the movement making Scott jerk a little on his feet.

“They have _ama_ zing teas, too. I like the peppermint. And the mocha for the coffee. Especially their whipped cream they put on it, too. Oh my god.”

Scott doesn’t say anything, just walks alongside the boy. He watches his face, though, watches the shadows and light mixing itself together on the angles and sharp curves and turns. Liam still has a hold on Scott’s wrist, just a loose grip of the fingers on the edges of the sweater.

They take a turn and Liam opens the door, waiting for Scott to step in beside him.

There isn’t anybody in there, just a worker behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag. The place smells like cookies and vanilla, and everything is so brown, the orange from outside dragging itself over the table tops and the tiled floor. It’s warm, too, but it’s comfortable. It feels familiar, like something his mother would like, and his stomach does a little lurch when he thinks of her, thinks of how she would always pull the blankets up to her chin when he fell asleep on the couch, thinks of how she would fall asleep on the couch after long shifts. He misses her, and his stomach is doing sick lurches, his heart beating with something a lot like sadness. His veins feel bittersweet.

Liam walks them over to a table, right in the middle of the cafe, in front of the worker.

“Liam!”

He walks over, throws the rag down and pulls up a chair to sit beside Liam. Scott can see he’s refraining from shifting his eyes over to him, and he looks like he’s struggling, sitting there and not asking _who’s this?_

Liam reaches out a hand, pats the boy on the knee. The boy smiles at him, big and bright. Scott can feel his stomach doing other funny things, something other than the sweet fluttering. He feels like it's sinking, and he's not sure why.

“Scott, this is Mason,” Liam looks over at Scott, eyelashes framing his face, fading sunlight fanning, glistening over his pale skin. “Mason, this is Scott.”

Mason smiles, looks over at Scott finally. His eyes seem to brighten a little, and Scott smiles, extends a hand. Mason envelops it in his own, and his grip is firm but friendly, almost like the way he’s staring at Scott, straight in the eyes.

“Alright. It’s nice to meet you,” Mason says, jumping up and brushing off the back of his pants. He smiles again. “Gonna order?”

Liam shifts his attention over to Scott, who shifts in his seat. “I’ve, uh, never been here before?”

Mason snorts. “‘course you haven’t, dude. I’d remember if you did, with a face like that.”

Scott can feel his neck heat up, the warmth spreading to his ears and cheeks. He fiddles with the ends of his sweaters, hanging around his wrists. 

He hears Liam hum, the sound seeming to wander and place itself in Scott, finding a home there, making itself comfortable, burrowing for the winter. 

“Get him the mocha, dude. He’s gotta try that for his first time.” 

Mason nods and wanders off back behind the counter, smile still imprinted on his face. Liam suddenly turns to face Scott, swiveling around in his seat.

“Shit, you’re not allergic or anything?” 

Scott shakes his head. “No. But I am allergic to marshmallows. And peanuts. Especially peanut butter.”

“Ew. Peanut butter’s disgusting.” Liam reaches out for a packet of sugar that had been discarded on the tabletop, fumbling it in his hands. “I’m allergic to laundry detergent. Like, just a specific kind.”

Scott hums, watching as Liam’s eyes drift down to the table, corners of his mouth tilted upwards. There’s a shaft of sunlight still evident on his face, and Scott suddenly wants to reach out, feel and see if the skin is sun-warm.

“I happen to love peanut butter,” Mason sets their drinks down on the table, plopping back down on his seat.

“You’re so fuckin’ disgusting,”

“You like sushi,”

“Sushi is amazing,”

“Fish,” Mason pulls himself back a bit on his seat, shifting around until he’s comfortable. “Raw fish. Nasty.”

Liam picks his cup up, wraps his fingers around it, but he doesn’t drink it yet. Scott’s a bit scared to try his, really. He’s not a big fan of coffee.

“You like sushi, Scott?” Liam turns to him, face bright and fond in the setting sun. Scott blinks at him, taken aback.

“Um. Yeah, it’s actually pretty good.”

Liam turns to Mason, and Mason scoffs. 

“Whatever, dude. Just ‘cause you get a cute guy to tell me ‘bout sushi doesn’t mean ‘m gonna like it. I still hate it.”

Scott flushes again.

Liam sighs, shakes his head. The stray hairs that stick up in the back of his head bounce around in the orange light, ignited and lit on fire. 

“You tried it yet?”

Scott shifts his hands around the cup, still steaming from the top. He shakes his head.

Liam doesn’t say anything, just motions with his hand for Scott to take a drink. He brings his own cup to his lips.

“One, two, three, go,” Mason drones, and Liam shifts out of Mason’s arm reach as he takes a sip. Mason lowers his hand.

Scott takes a sip.

And it’s fucking hot.

And disgusting.

“Shit, wait, wait wait wait wait, wait,” he splutters, bringing his sleeves to the corners of his mouth. Liam’s watching him, eyes squinted, Mason cackling somewhere to his left. “Fuck, sorry. I don’t really like coffee,”

Liam hums, bringing his own cup back to his mouth. Scott blinks back the tears in his eyes, watches the pale line of Liam’s throat work. Shit.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Liam reaches across the table, hands closing around Scott’s cup, the liquid still steaming and the edges spattered with the stuff from where Scott’s hand jerked. “I wouldn’t of minded,”

Scott shrugs, reaching into the napkin dispenser and wiping the table off. He can feel Liam’s eyes following his movements. “I dunno. Thought I’d try it? I’ve never tried a mocha, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had coffee. Thought it all would’ve changed. But apparently not. Sorry.”

“You like tea, then?” 

Scott shakes his head. “Not really.”

“‘s alright. I love both, so, I’ll just finish yours.”

Mason has left, and Scott can hear him from somewhere in the back, shuffling things and humming a little. The air’s bathed in silence now, the whole room drenched in a sleepy sort of mix between purple, orange, and the beginnings of nighttime. It’s peaceful, and it’s calm, and Scott’s warm all over, the sleeves of his sweater wet with coffee, the scratched out tabletops underneath his fingertips.

Liam puts down his cup, landing on the table with a hollow clunking sound. “Fuck, now I feel sick. Shit.”

Scott looks over at him, sees his head between his hands. “Did you drink it too fast?” His voice is quiet, as if he speaks any louder he’ll break something.

“Yeah, think so. God.” 

Scott lets out a little chuckle of a laugh, and Liam lets his head drop down onto the table. 

“Which one?”

“Mocha.”

Scott scoots his chair backwards, picking up the cup and heading over to the can that sits right beside the counter. When he gets back, Liam’s watching him with a sort of glint in his eyes.

“Thanks, dude.”

Scott sits back down, shrugging. “No problem.” He looks up as Liam lets out a sigh, and he raises his arm in an aborted movement. Liam’s eyebrows raise.

“You have… um,” Scott brings his hands up to his face, gesturing all over but emphasizing his nose. Liam raises his arm but doesn’t do anything. 

“What?”

“Whipped cream… like, on your face,”

“Shit, where?”

Scott gestures again, but Liam just shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed now, frown evident on his pale face. Scott sighs again, leaning across the table and bringing a thumb up to Liam’s nose. Liam’s eyes cross as he follows Scott’s finger, the blue and gold mixed together, blinking fast as Scott wipes the stuff off with his sleeve. 

“Got it.”

“Thanks,”

Mason comes out then, dusting his hands off on his jeans. 

“How much for the—?” Scott tries to keep his voice steady, but Mason cuts him off with a raised palm towards him.

“No need, dude. It’s alright. Was about to close anyway.”

“But, you didn’t need to—”

“It’s okay. I do stuff like this all the time. ‘specially for this one,” 

He jabs a thumb in Liam’s direction, and Liam looks up at him, snarling. But his face is still soft. 

“Jamb your thumb—”

“Anyway, Scott, it was really nice meeting you.” Mason walks over to him, Scott taking his outstretched palm and shaking it. “Come back anytime.”

Scott smiles, soft and warm, and nods. “Definitely will, for sure.”

Liam stands up too, and he gives Mason a hug before heading for the door. “See you back at the dorm,”

Mason nods and smiles, practically shoving them out of the door, Liam giggling the whole way, Scott still smiling.

They set off walking toward the dorm rooms, hands stuffed in pockets, wrapped around themselves. They don’t say anything until they’re in front of the branching, just like they were a few weeks ago.

“Thanks, Liam. I’ll be sure to order coffee next time and not ruin the tables,”

“Nah. The first time I tried mocha, it was nasty as fuck. Turns out it had too much sugar in it. Just gotta make it the right way, eh?”

Scott smiles and nods, hands still stuffed in his pockets.

“I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Scott walks off, leaving Liam with a small smile.

He turns back around before he turns on the curve and Liam’s still holding the sweater.

It probably looks better on him anyway.

♡

When Scott gets back to his dorm, Malia’s curled up on his bed, blankets tucked under her chin, glasses perched on her nose. She looks up when he walks in, and the only light that comes into the room is the moonlight, the whole room quivering in the silvery light. He closes the door behind him.

“Hey,” Malia says, and Scott takes off his sweater, feeling the cold air wash over his skin as he watches Malia scoot over to the wall.

“Hi,”

He climbs in next to her, and she lifts the blankets to cover him, and he turns to face the door. He curls his arms around each other, feeling Malia’s arms wrap around his waist from behind. She nuzzles forward into his neck, and he closes his eyes, the silver light still visible.

“We don’t even need two beds in here,” he says, and she hums, the sound quiet and quivering. 

“Love you, Mal,”

“You know it.”

♡

Scott gets his test results a couple of weeks later.

He tells Stiles, Malia and Kira, everyone else, wraps his arms around Lydia’s waist as she kisses his temple, everyone giving him congratulations.

He goes to the roof at two am, and Liam’s silhouette is quivering in the moonlight, just as it seems to always be.

“Hey,” Scott says, and Liam turns toward him when he sits down, arms wrapped around his knees, socked feet thumping against the rocks. “No shoes tonight?”

Liam hums, the sound traveling out of his throat, crawling onto the ground and lifting itself into the air. Scott has the test paper crumpled in his sweatshirt pocket, the material ruffling and crinkling when he moves. Liam doesn’t seem to notice.

“I didn’t feel like wearing them,” Liam says, resting his cheek on his folded hands, bending his torso so he leans forward, sleep-heavy eyes lidded, gaze hazy and slow on Scott. Scott tries to keep his gaze focused on the moon, the fog that covers the stars.

“I hate socks.” Scott says, crinkling his nose. Liam lets out a soft puff of laughter.

“I love fuzzy socks. But that’s about it. Mason says my shoes stink, but don’t listen to him.” Scott laughs, the sound drifting in the air. Liam follows soon after with his own breath of a giggle, and his shadow droops and sags in the shafts of moonlight.

“I got my test results back,” Scott says after a beat, and Liam’s eyebrows raise. Scott purses his lips, leaning back to reach his hand inside his sweatshirt pocket and pulls the crumpled paper out, smoothing the hard lines and wrinkles. Liam follows his movements with his eyes.

“How did you do?”

Scott hands the paper over to him, and Liam untangles his limbs from each other before grabbing it, and he looks at it for a second. Scott doesn’t mean to watch him, but he can’t pull his eyes away from the lines of his face, the slight part of his mouth as his eyes follow the words on the paper. He’s got pretty eyelashes, Scott thinks, the kind that Lydia would be jealous of.

“This is,” Liam breathes, and he turns his face up to Scott, mouth barely containing the large grin that threatens to spread over his face like traveling poison, “this is great, Scott. You did well.”

“Yeah,” Scott says, shrugging his shoulders. He can feel his neck heating up, the warmth spreading up to his ears. “I guess so.”

“You ‘guess so’?” Liam folds the paper back up, raises an eyebrow. “Scott. This is really, really good. Amazing. Fantastic. You get the drift. You name it, this is it.” 

“Eh.”

Liam just sits there for a minute, and Scott turns his face when he can feel Liam’s eyes on him again, tracing his face like he’s trying to remember the lines. The gold in his eyes are outlined by the moonlight, and Scott swallows around a lump in his throat. 

Then Liam wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Scott’s heart feels like it’s going to drop out of his ribcage.

“You believe me now?” Liam breathes, and Scott burrows his face in Liam’s neck, wonders for a split second if it’s too much for Liam, but Liam just situates himself more comfortably on his knees, scooting closer to Scott’s body, enveloping them both in a circle of warmth.

“Eh.” Scott says, and Liam’s arms tighten around him again. “Could’ve been better.” 

Liam just presses his nose to Scott’s cheek, and Scott resists the urge to pull back.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and Liam laughs, his breath warm on Scott’s neck. “You’re cold.”

“Stop doubting yourself,” Liam says, and he pulls back. He smiles warmly at Scott, and Scott feels his stomach flip in a hundred different directions, ears pumping with his heartbeat. “You did good.”

“It’s almost winter,” Scott says after a moment of silence, the beat loud and drawn out. Liam has situated himself so his knees aren’t pressed to Scott’s, and Scott can feel the cold all over his body now that he’s moved. He tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut, like someone’s thrown an anchor down his throat, wrecked the ship he’s been harboring in.

“Yeah.” Liam says, the sound drowned out by a loud yawn. His shoulders shake with it, his palm coming up to rest over his mouth. “I like summer.”

Scott turns to him, eyebrows raised. “I love winter.”

“Shit.” Liam says, turning to face Scott. His eyes are wide in the moonlight, silvery strands bouncing around in his hair. “I guess we can’t talk anymore. Goodbye. I’m done.”

He moves to get up, his limbs heavy and slow as he scoots away from Scott. Scott reaches out a hand without really meaning to, feels the sharp bones of Liam’s wrist as Liam looks up at him again.

“Noo,” Scott says, and he pulls Liam closer. “I like talking to you. I like talking to you out here, in the god-forsaken hours of morning, probably even more than I like winter.”

He hears Liam’s breath hitch and it’s silent after that.

Scott forgets that his hand is wrapped around Liam’s wrist, doesn’t remember until Liam actually has to go.

_(“It’s nearly three-thirty. Mason’s gonna kill me if I stay out any longer.”_ _“Ah. I gotta get goin’, too. Make sure Malia hasn’t ripped apart the whole building lookin’ for me.”_ _They walked back together, Scott giving Liam a soft smile before they both turned to go into the different hallways.)_

♡

His mother Skypes him on a Sunday in late November, the sunlight fading and Malia spread out on Scott’s stomach, like always.

Lydia’s at the foot of the bed, her bun falling a bit from where it was nestled at the top of her head, loosening every time she turns over. She came over to help Malia with something, then they got into a discussion on this band and that, and Scott dozed while they fell asleep.

He watches as Melissa’s face pops up onto the screen, her eyebrows furrowed and curls ignited by the window behind her. Scott smiles at her, his face beaming, fading sunshine warming his skin even though it’s weak and watery. 

“Hi, Mom,” he says, and Melissa’s eyes wander to his face. Her smile is tired and there are light bags under her eyes, but there doesn’t seem to be any sign of stress on her face. 

“Scott,” she says, her voice soft and fond. Scott feels warm and happy, as if he’s got a sun tucked away into all the corners of himself. He’d like to pull them all out, hand them to every single person he loves, watch them shine and smile. “How’re you feeling?”

Scott takes a deep breath, reaches over Malia’s head and grabs his test paper. He unfurls it and holds it up to the screen, and the red ink stands out from all the grey behind him. His mother’s warm eyes scan the paper quickly before they start shining.

“Baby boy,” she says, her voice slightly choked. “You’re doing so well. I feel left out.”

“Aw, Ma,” Scott says, dropping the paper and bringing his sleeve up to the corners of his eyes. He can hear Melissa’s quiet sniffling, and they sit there for a few minutes, bathing in the bittersweetness of being apart.

“You’re gonna be all grown up.” Melissa says, “you already are, Christ. It was just yesterday when I watched you bump into the fridge, wobbly and still chubby.”

“Of all the memories you remember,” Scott says, swallowing the tears in the back of his throat, “you remember me getting a knot on my head and crying for ten minutes straight.”

“You were only three,” his mother sniffles, “just a lil baby. John was there too; Stiles wouldn’t stop laughing at you. You hit him in the face, then he started crying.”

“Stiles claims he has never been told that,”

“He’s lying.”

“I know.”

The room is bathed in silence after that, and Melissa’s sniffles die down a little after awhile. Scott can still feel the tears at the back of his throat, behind his eyes, tries to swallow it all down. 

“How’s everyone else doing?” Melissa asks after a couple of beats, face red and eyes shining. Scott takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. 

“Lydia’s doing… well, I think everyone knows the answer to that question, like always. She’s doing really great with her math, Allison is still majoring in photography. Isaac has a little trouble with law, but Lydia’s trying to help him get back into studying. Erica says that she tries not to rip the teacher’s head off every lesson, says he’s an asshole. Boyd is doing good. Derek is… Derek, he’s doing good. He says that Cora is doing good too, up in New York.”

“So everyone’s well? Good?” 

Scott nods, swallowing past a yawn that crawls up into his throat. Malia lets out a small snuffle when he tries to readjust his position, her hands tightening around his shirt. Lydia’s moved to wrap herself around Malia’s legs, bun still messy and curls falling around her shoulders now. 

“I actually miss cleaning up after you,” Melissa says after a beat, and she chuckles, the sound low and pleasant, nostalgia threatening to choke Scott. “Now you know it’s bad.”

“I’d never clean up after myself,” Scott says, and Melissa sighs.

“Especially when you were little, god,”

“I think I’m doing a bit better now,” Scott says, “ask Malia.”

Melissa hums, squinting her eyes through the camera. Her face twists into a yawn not even a second later, her hand moving up to cover her mouth.

“You sleepy?”

“Mm,”

“Want me to let you sleep?”

Melissa’s eyes widen. “No, no, Scott, I want to talk to you. I haven’t seen you since you left,”

“I know, Ma, but you also need sleep, especially when you have work.” Scott looks at her for a few more beats, both of them just sitting in the silence that’s placed itself around them like a blanket. Melissa’s eyes are watering with sleep, Scott can tell, and she looks like she’s trying to swallow past the yawns that threaten to rise.

“I’ll call you later, Mom, I swear,” Scott says, and Melissa’s face pulls itself into a frown. “I’ll tell Malia, or someone, to remind me. Probably everyone, because Malia’s forgetful. But I promise, we will do this again. I’ll come down and see you, we’ll all go, get caught up, once break comes up, okay? I love you,”

Melissa’s eyes fill with tears, and she sniffles a bit before speaking, still looking hesitant to end the call.

“Baby boy,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “I love you too.”

♡

Scott goes back into the coffee shop when it’s raining, his sweatshirt soaked and people running past him with umbrellas. 

His textbooks are wet, his shoes flooded with rain water, squelching and squealing underneath his feet when he walks. He almost trips twice, opening the door and feeling the warm heat wash over his skin, taking a deep breath as he almost drops his things on the nearest table.

Mason is behind the counter, feet propped up, phone in hand and earphones shoved in his ears. He raises an eyebrow at Scott.

“You okay?” he asks, and Scott takes a huge gulp of warm air, feeling his insides practically defrost.

Scott nods, plopping down onto a chair and rubbing a hand over his face. He cringes when his wet sleeve catches on his mouth, blue and bruised purple from cold. “Yeah, ‘s just cold and wet outside.”

Mason hums, setting his phone down and pulling a cup from behind the counter. He turns around and fills the cup up with something, but Scott places his forehead on his arms, concentrating on the warmth that’s seeping back into his toes. 

“Is it alright if I take my shoes off?”

Mason snorts. “No one else is fuckin’ here, dude, it’s almost closing time. I don’t care,”

Scott lifts his head up. “If it’s almost closing time, d’you—”

Mason tuts. “Nah, man. It’s like it was last time—I do this for Liam all the time, it’s no problem. You’re cool, you’re cute, it’s cold and wet outside. It’s a win-win,”

Scott can feel his ears turn red, and he takes off his shoes with his heels, kicking them away, bringing his feet up on the chair and wrapping his arms around his knees. His jeans are soaked too, his hair is wet and dripping into his face, and he pulls off his sweatshirt and spreads it out on top of the table. 

“Shit,” he says, looking up at Mason. “Is this okay?”

“Scott.”

“Okay,”

Mason brings the cup over to Scott, drops down into the seat across from him. Scott looks into the cup, sees the steam coming from the top. “It’s hot chocolate,” Mason says, fondness traced into his voice. Scott sighs.

“Thank god,” he says, “I was fucking craving this stuff for, like, the past two days.”

Mason snorts again. 

Scott waits for it to cool down before taking a sip of it, instantly feeling warmer. 

“So,” Mason says, “you and Liam.”

Scott raises his eyebrows. “What about… me and Liam?”

“Scott. I feel like I’m watching me pine after my third-grade crush when I watch you around him.”

Scott almost chokes on the hot chocolate. The rain is still pounding outside, and he doesn’t answer for a second, just listening to the echo in his head from the water dripping down from the roof.

“What are you saying?”

Mason just… stares at him, expression exasperated and tired, but there’s also a hint of fondness between the cracks and creases of him. 

“You know what I’m saying.”

Scott fumbles with the label on the styrofoam cup, peeling it halfway off before he answers. “I just… it started… I don’t know when it started, it just kind of—did, I guess. I started thinking that it would just be really cool to see what makes him happy. And, like, I just, like, I like looking at him. When he’s happy and when—” Scott stops himself before he says something that tastes a lot like _he’s sitting on the roof, hair lit up, body a silver silhouette_ in the back of his throat. Mason raises his eyebrows on the pause, and Scott flushes red.

“I just. But I don’t know what to do about it?”

Mason sighs. 

“This is like freaking middle school all over again.”

Scott groans, thumps his head against his forearms. His hot chocolate is half empty in front of him, the rain behind him picking up speed with every second. It’s white noise against the sides of Scott’s head, the pounding in his ears and thrumming in his fingertips. His whole body feels hazy, like he’s got somewhere to be, someone to see.

“What do I do?” he asks, and he hears Mason sigh again, shift his chair a little before he speaks again.

“Tell him,”

Scott looks up at him, his expression troubled.

“What the _hell_? Why would I do that?”

Mason just stares at Scott. 

“Just… Liam likes honesty. He threatened to punch me when we were ten because I wouldn’t tell him I like dudes. He hugged me after I told him, said he was sorry he threatened me; he didn’t know that other people threatened to punch me until later, when we were in middle school. He was like a fuckin’ bodyguard, dude.”

Scott smiles. “So I just go up to him, say ‘hey, Liam, I like you, wanna hang out’? No, man. I don’t even know if he likes me. I wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection. I cried for a week when the girl I liked in grade nine told me to get lost.”

Mason scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m just trying to help, Scott. I know Liam like the back of my hand, it’s been that way since we were five. He values honesty, so when he starts asking what your problem is, tell him the truth. It may not be now, or anytime soon, but just… don’t hurt him. Be honest. Please.”

Scott looks up, looks into Mason’s sincere brown eyes, can see the worry there, the fondness buried underneath, all of it for Liam, who he knows better than Scott. Scott can practically feel his chest expand, deflate under the knowledge that people like Mason exist.

So he reaches across the table, bunching up his sweatshirt and holding his arm a few inches above Mason’s shoulder. Mason pulls him the rest of the way in, their bodies crashing together in a tight hug, and Scott doesn’t know Mason all that well, but he likes the view of his personality so far.

“Thanks,” Scott says, pulling back after a few seconds.

Mason hums, a low sound in the back of his throat. “No prob, man. Once you feel comfortable, you can go. I’m not gonna rush you.”

Scott gives him a grateful smile.

♡

Scott bathes in his feelings for two more weeks.

It’s nearing winter break, classes dying down and everyone talking about gifts, what they’re gonna do for the holiday they celebrate, how they’ll surprise their families. He listens to Allison talk about her plans, say how she’s talked to the rest of the group and how they said that they’d all tell their family to meet up with Chris at his house. Scott nods and mumbles here and there, actually paying attention, but thoughts still run around in the back of his mind.

“You’re the last person I needed to tell,” Allison says, smiling softly at Scott. He returns it. “Everyone else says it’s a good idea. I mean, we’re all close anyway, we would’ve eventually made plans to drive to see each other.”

Scott hums. “That is true.”

Allison nods her head, and then it’s quiet. She turns back to him after a minute, though, short curls whipping around her head as she raises an eyebrow.

They’re in her dorm, Erica out shopping with Lydia and Kira and Boyd, Derek grumbling along with them, and the sun is high in the sky, weak and watery on a Friday afternoon. They had just all gotten back from their respective classes, and Allison is still in her regular clothes while Scott pulled off his pants and replaced them with sweats. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asks, and Scott trails his eyes back to her from where they’ve drifted to the ceiling.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know when you’re here, and when you’re _here_ here. What’s on your mind?”

Scott sighs, shrugs, the movement bunching up his shirt. Allison punches him in the stomach softly, moving her stuff so she can sidle up beside him and wrap herself around him. 

“It’s… nothing, really, All.” Scott says, but Allison just isn’t buying it.

“It’s something,” she says softly, her voice filtering out into the night air. She shifts so her hair is tickling the side of Scott’s face, and he shrugs again.

“Please,”

“Allison,”

“You need to tell someone,”

Scott sighs. “I just… I’m in a dilemma,”

Allison doesn’t laugh. Scott didn’t expect her to. “Try to say it with you being as vague as possible, if you don’t want to tell me,”

Scott’s mind flitters back to the conversation with Mason, the rain falling and beating down on his bones. The hot chocolate, the words said about Liam. The crushing he felt when he walked back to his dorm, thinking that Liam doesn’t like him that way, probably doesn’t even like him as a friend. Scott can practically feel his heart start to sink.

“It feels like third grade all over again,”

Allison’s eyebrows furrow, her face contorting into confusion for a second. Her eyes show recognition not even a second later. “And one thing that normally pops up is puppy love,”

Scott cringes. “Worse than that.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“So you like somebody?”

Scott doesn’t need to answer; Allison’s already wrapping herself tighter around Scott, head placed on his chest, his arms around her shoulders. They just sit like that for a few minutes, bathing in the remnants of a weak winter sun flooding in through the dirty window, silence loud but deafening in their ears. 

“Do you know if..?” Allison starts to say, but cuts herself off. Her tone is edged with a slight tint of sadness, words fading off, throwing themselves into the air and dropping onto the floor. 

“No. His best friend told me to tell him, but like. I don’t know what he would think about it.”

“You saw how it went with me and Lydia,” Allison says, and Scott smiles at the memory. Last year of high school, right after graduation, Lydia had pulled Allison off to the sides and just went for it. They disappeared after, returning a half hour later. 

“Sometimes you gotta take chances, Scott.”

Scott doesn’t say anything, just hums in reply.

♡

Scott still doesn’t tell Liam anything. 

He doesn’t go to the roof anymore, caught up in a web of a dilemma, mind flittering back to doubt then confidence, and in the end he just decides to wait.

He’s been waiting for three weeks. Probably more. He doesn’t want to think about it.

They all leave for break and Scott doesn’t speak a word to Mason or to Liam, just focuses on his mother, everyone’s family, the weight of Kira and Boyd pressed into his side in the car, the music flooding everyone with happiness, Malia screaming in the front seat.

At one point, she leans over and screams right into Derek’s ear, causing him to swerve a little to the left. Everyone laughs, he grumbles, Scott listens to Lydia’s story that she’s telling to Erica and Stiles, who are nodding their heads along to whatever she’s saying.

He’s happy, feels like a sun’s tucked into every crack and crevice of his body, and for a while, he doesn’t think about Liam, or the happiness he feels around him. 

After a while, though, it flitters and bounces around in his mind, and he remembers the nights on the roof.

Same place, same spot, everytime. Liam’s shadow crumpled in a heap, knees folded and arms placed on them, hair sleep-mussed and eyes sharp and blue and gold, all at once. Edges of his face fuzzy in the moonlight, body outlined in silver, fingers pale lines. Scott remembers his arms wrapped around him, the soft smiles they exchanged.

He just doesn’t know what to do.

♡

It’s quiet when they pull up into the driveway, and Scott can see a small group of people flood out of the door at once.

He spots Melissa immediately.

Everyone stumbles out of the car, screaming and yelling, and it’s almost midnight and arms are wrapped around bodies, faces are turned wet and eyes red.

Scott gives everyone a hug, returns their words with all the sincerity he feels for each and every one of them, and he stops, stands in front of Melissa. 

“Scott,” she says, and that’s all it takes.

♡

Break passes by in a whirl of colours and lights, love and laughter, warmth in Scott’s body and fondness pouring out of his bones.

He was always curled around someone, their body warm and heavy next to him, the lights that they kept hanging up bathing the room in a hazy gold. They all stayed awake until three in the morning, watching movies and shows and telling about college life and how much the break has been a gift so far. He had missed it, even though it hurts like hell to leave again and go, but he’s glad he had the bittersweetness to bathe in, even though everything would be gone in just a few weeks.

He went shopping with Boyd and Stiles, watching them rifle through things while Kira and Isaac were at the other end of the store, followed close behind by Cora, who had come up from New York, and Allison.

He picks up everything he needs, makes a mess with the wrapping paper and stuffs it all under the tree, feels his body light up when he looks around at the people that surround him.

♡

When it’s the last day, no one, naturally, wants to leave.

They all pile onto the floor, the adults watching from the doorframe, fondness practically overflowing in the room.

They have to leave at around five in the evening, and everyone cries and says that they’ll Skype, they promise, they’ll do extra well on their exams when they get back, they swear.

Melissa cries and hugs everyone for the longest before she lets go. Everyone else is basically the same.

♡

“I love you guys,” Malia says into the darkness of the car, everyone a slumped over silhouette. She’s curled next to Scott, body heavy on his side, and she yawns. “Every single one of you. I’m happy that you’re here.”

She grabs Scott’s hand and Scott grips it back, and everyone mumbles and breathes out a ‘love you too’ and Scott kisses the top of her head while she dozes off.

♡

Scott studies with Kira for his exams, Lydia helping them.

Scott barely gets any sleep, downing coffee like it’s his job, cups scattered all over the dorm room. Stiles walks in and wrinkles his nose, stepping over the trash littered everywhere.

“You’re not studying?” Scott asks. His leg won’t stop bouncing. He feels like his eyes are going to roll out of his skull.

Stiles snorts. “I’ll study. Eventually.”

“It’s three days before the exams start,” Lydia deadpans, book propped up on her knees from her position next to Malia. Malia looks troubled beside her, highlighter gripped tightly in her knuckles, face white and hair a mess. 

“I know,” Stiles says, and he shrugs. “I’ll study tomorrow.”

“We are in fucking college,” Lydia says, sighing deeply, “and you still procrastinate.”

Stiles shrugs again, taking his place next to Scott on the desk. Scott continues his work.

♡

All through the exam, Scott’s leg doesn’t move once.

♡

It’s sprinkling when he goes back onto the roof, the grey cement and rocks twinkling in the moonlight. 

It’s Wednesday and exams are done.

There’s a party going on and the roof is empty, and Scott tries to swallow down the disappointment that threatens to choke him.

He takes his usual spot, feels the emptiness of the space next to him, the bitter bite of the wind. 

It’s only a few minutes later when he hears the opening of a door behind him, orange light flooding the whole roof, mixing with the silver. He turns, raises his eyebrows at the silhouette.

The person freezes.

“Scott,”

Scott can feel his breath hitch, hooking onto Liam’s voice, the curves of his shadow standing in the doorway. “Liam?”

Liam walks over, his movements slow and drawn-out like honey. Scott watches him as he sits down, watches the folding of his knees and hands on top of each other. Watches as Liam turns to face him, expression contorted into an unreadable expression.

“You finally come to talk to me?”

Scott’s surprised by the tone of his voice—cold, biting, bitter. There’s no trace of warmth in it, his eyebrows drawn together, mouth pulled down into a tight frown. Scott’s stomach drops to the floor.

“Liam—”

“No, Scott,” Liam cuts across him, and when he turns to look at Scott, his eyes are glossed over, his face tinged pink like he’s upset. Scott feels like crying. “All you had to do was tell me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore, or that you were busy, or whatever. Okay? Just don’t let me… don’t let me sit here, thinking that you’ll come, and when the seconds don’t stop turning you don’t show. I thought… I don’t know,”

Liam runs a hand through his hair, letting out a choked laugh. He looks more upset than angry, Scott realizes, and that makes something pull in his stomach, behind his eyes. Liam’s upset because of him. Because he wouldn’t stop worrying and just _do_. 

“Fuck, I just... I thought that? I just. I—I don’t even _know_ what I thought. I wanted to talk to you, because it’s what I’ve gotten used to for the past few—what? Months? Weeks?” Liam sighs, shakes his head. “Mason told me that you talked to him. I guess that’s what makes me upset about it. And that was before break.”

“Liam, I—”

Liam buries his face into his arms, propped up on his bent knees. Scott wants to reach out a hand because he tastes the words in the back of his throat, just sitting there, making itself comfortable. He feels like shit. He feels like screaming, letting everything that he wants to say to Liam pour out of his smoking throat, settle evenly in the night air. 

But he’s fucking terrified.

“I am so, so, sorry, Liam. I don’t know if you believe me, but just… I’ll—”

And he stands, his legs feeling unsteady, heart pumping wildly behind his ribcage, in his ears. He feels like he’s going to drown in the beat.

Liam doesn’t move, but Scott swears he hears his breath hitch when the door opens again, shaking and shivering.

♡

“You mother _fucking_ idiot,” 

“Malia—”

“No, no no no no no no, no, okay?” Malia sits across from Scott on the bed, toothbrush held in her hand, foam on the corners of her lips. Her hair is messy and wild around her shoulders from the party, the beat of the music still traveling to the room. It’s everywhere, and Scott wants to yell.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell him?” Malia says, but her voice isn’t harsh or cold, just exasperated and tired. 

“I don’t know,” Scott shrugs. “I just. I. What if he doesn’t like me back?”

“I knew Kira for three years before either one of us made a move,” Malia says, and she sighs, shakes her head so her hair falls away from her face. “And it was her, in the end. After the game, remember? You were in the shower, and she was just high on adrenaline from winning, and I was there, and she just backed me up against the wall and. I just happened to feel the same thing for her.”

“Allison told me to take a chance,”

“She’s right, dude.”

“I know.”

“Okay then.”

It’s quiet after that, a heavy buzz hanging in the air, suspended for anyone to grab. Malia gets up and finishes brushing her teeth, and Scott just sits there, pillow to his chest, stomach feeling heavy but hollow. He barely hears Malia walk back into the room, his sweatshirt hanging off of her shoulders.

“Scooch,” she says, and it’s quiet but Scott does as she says. He turns his face to the wall, pillow still wrapped around his arms, and he feels Malia sidle up behind him, the blanket covering the both of them. Her arms go around his stomach, he situates himself so they’re pressed together all the way.

“I love you, Scott, but sometimes you can be a damn idiot.”

Her voice is fond and soft and Scott closes his eyes.

♡

Mason comes up to Scott a few days later, his eyes blazing and mouth pulled into a snarl.

Scott fights the subconscious urge to back into the library wall, books pressed to his chest, and Mason stops right in front of him.

“Liam told me.” he says, and that’s all it takes. Scott knows what he’s talking about.

“Liam told me that you didn’t talk to him for _fucking weeks_. What the hell, Scott? I told you that Liam likes honesty? I told you to tell him how you feel?”

Scott trips over the words in the back of his throat, struggles to get them out. “I, um, I know. And I still want to. But now Liam hates me, and I’m kind of scared to go to the roof now because of that, and what if—

Mason sighs, brings a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Scott,” he says, his voice slow and heavy, “just tell him. Tell him for me. And if you decide not to, for the love of everything, just don’t. Hurt. Him.”

Scott nods. “I wasn’t planning on it. And if I did, Mason,” Scott looks at him, straight in the eye. Mason doesn’t look away. “If I did, I swear I didn’t intend to.”

“I believe you,” Mason says after a beat. Scott doesn’t realize his heart is beating wildly until it gets quiet. “It’s kinda hard not to believe a face like that.” He turns to walk away, but stops, turns. “Remember, Scott. He loves honesty.”

♡

Scott’s got his phone gripped tightly in his hand, knuckles turning white from the strain, the white background illuminating the gravel.

He’s got the conversation with Lydia pulled up, and a second later her and Allison burst in through the door, soft light spilling from inside.

“Scott,” he hears Allison say, and her shoes crunch the rocks before she’s right there beside him, hair pulled back into a bun and Lydia right on her heels.

“I plan on telling him tonight,” Scott says, voice whisper-soft in the air. He presses the button on his phone to turn it off while Lydia wraps around him from behind, arms warm and solid around his shoulders. He leans back into her, breathes out a sigh. Allison grabs his hand, grip soft and gentle, putting only a small amount of pressure behind it.

“But,” Scott swallows. “I’ve been up here for the past few nights, and he still hasn’t shown. I really, _really_ need to tell him now, though. I swear I feel like I’m gonna explode, or implode, or whatever the fuck.”

Allison laughs, soft and quivering in the air. Scott can feel Lydia disentangling herself from him from behind, and he turns to her, but she’s not looking at him.

“We’ll be right back, Scott,” she says. Allison raises her eyebrows at her, hand still wrapped around Scott’s.

“Where are we…” 

Lydia must do something because a second later, Allison’s eyes flash with something a lot like recognition.

“We’ll be back,” 

And she leans over and kisses the top of Scott’s head, standing and brushing off her clothes before grabbing Lydia’s waist. Scott feels the silence once the door closes behind him, heavy and unsettling like an itchy blanket.

He lies back, feeling the small rocks dig into his back, the wind whip at his nose and cheeks, and he thinks that maybe some part of this could be peaceful.

♡

“Scott?”

Scott turns around, watches Liam’s face flash with something before he moves closer.

“Hi,” Scott says, and he feels something tug at him when he sees the corner of Liam’s mouth pull up. “I…”

“It’s okay,” Liam says, and he looks around at everything before his eyes finally settle on Scott. Scott swallows past the dryness in his throat. “Lydia told me.”

Scott’s eyes widen. “No,”

Liam nods, crossing his arms over his chest. Scott watches the oversized fabric of his long-sleeved shirt shift over his arms before anyone speaks again.

“She told me why you didn’t talk to me for so long,” Liam says, his soft voice cutting through the cold air, “she said that you were an idiot. Which, may I add, you are.”

Scott laughs. He doesn’t really mean to, but. It just happens. “So now you know,”

Liam lets out a small breath of air, runs a hand through his hair. It sticks up at the edges, his shoulders a soft line in the moonlight, curves and dips of him shadowed and brilliant in silver. “Guess I do,”

“And now the rejection,” Scott’s voice holds a tint of sadness to it, can’t really help it. He looks down, somewhere over Liam’s shoulder. He catches a glimpse of raised eyebrows.

“What?” Liam says, and he shifts a little, moving his weight on his feet, left to right. “What are you talking about?”

Scott’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m talking about what Lydia told you,”

“Which was..?”

“That I like you?”

Liam’s mouth parts in surprise, his arms falling to his sides. He moves over to Scott in one swift stride, settling down beside him. He folds his knees underneath himself, turns to face Scott.

“What?”

“Shit,” Scott can feel his face heat up, turns to look away from Liam’s confused expression. “Lydia didn’t tell you that?”

“No?”

“Well,”

“Now I know,”

Scott turns to get up, fucking _abort the mission_ , or whatever the hell Stiles says after a movie marathon, but Liam’s fingers wrap around his wrist. His hands are cold, a sharp contrast to Scott’s warm skin, and it makes Scott stop, stand still. His heart is racing in his chest, swimming in his ears, making his legs shake and hands quiver. He just seems to blank when he looks down at Liam, look at the upturn of his mouth, the small smirk like he knows something Scott doesn’t.

“You can stay,” Liam’s eyes glint in the moonlight, gold and blue flooding together, “I never said you couldn’t.”

The loud music seems to bleed back into Scott’s ears, the heavy bass and thrum vibrating in his fingertips. He remembers. He doesn’t think he can forget.

“Shit,”

He sits back down, folds his hands together. He can feel Liam’s smirk, his eyes watching him from beside him, and it makes his stomach flip and turn nervously. 

Scott doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Neither does Liam.

The silence is unsettling.

“I like coffee more than tea,” Scott blurts, and he hears Liam’s surprised intake of breath beside him that sounds a lot like a laugh at the end, “guess I’m not a big mocha guy.”

“Fucking hell,”

Liam’s laugh is placed on Scott’s mouth, and Liam’s lips are chapped but warm, his fingers still wrapped tightly around Scott’s wrist. Scott can practically feel the breath leave his body, Liam grabbing his other hand and gripping it like it’s a lifeline, pressing Scott back into the metal that’s behind him. It’s slow and messy and lazy, and Liam’s mouth is still wrapped around a smile and a smirk, his body heavy and hazy on top of Scott’s. 

There’s broken shafts of moonlight falling all over the place, glittering everywhere like fallen stars on earth, and Scott brings a hand up to Liam’s face, feels the pale skin warm up underneath the rising moon and fading sun.

“You are such,” Liam says pulling back, “a fuckin’ idiot, Scott. I freaking like you, man, how could you not notice?”

Scott shrugs, flashing a shy, small smile. Liam is looking down at him, face half shadow and half light, and Scott thinks he’s beautiful. His eyelashes are spiderwebs down his cheeks, his eyes brilliant and bright, dips and curves laid out underneath the moonlight. 

Scott just sits there for a second until Liam slides off of his lap, pulling Scott up with him by the wrists. His grip is gentle and his eyes are fond, and Scott follows without a word.

They walk the opposite direction when they get to the branching off of the hallways, in the direction Liam usually goes to. Scott tries to swallow down whatever is pooling in his throat, his mouth, his stomach.

Liam opens the door, peering inside before tugging Scott with him. 

It’s dark inside of the dorm, only the pulled back curtains letting light in, bathing everything in silver. Liam walks back, holding Scott at arm’s length, eyes on the ground, face slightly pink.

“Liam..?”

“I just. I wanna know if… this? Is alright,” His face flushes an even deeper colour when he says the word ‘this’, and Scott’s stomach swoops when he realizes what he’s implying.

“Is it okay with you?” Scott asks, and Liam looks up at him, eyes squinted a little in the sharp moonlight.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s more than okay, actually. But we can… like, I dunno.” He takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want to rush.”

“I’ve been pining for months, Liam. And I’m just now telling you that I like you,”

Liam flushes red, stepping closer to Scott. Scott can practically count his eyelashes, feel his breathing, see the heavy rise and fall of his chest.

And he kisses him.

Liam is taken aback by the sudden movement, if the way his breath hitches is anything to go by. He steps closer to Scott, removing his hands from Scott’s wrists and putting them around his neck, Scott’s hands going to Liam’s waist. Their noses bump and Liam is still cold, hands slipping every now and then and touching the skin underneath the collar of Scott’s shirt, sending a wave of chills down Scott’s body.

Scott sees a flash of grey on brown, and he turns before he can stop himself. Liam makes a small noise of protest in the back of his throat, trying to follow Scott’s mouth, and when he can’t he tightens his grip on Scott’s shoulders, attaching himself to Scott’s neck.

“Is that..?” Scott asks, and Liam pulls back, hair a mess and face pink. He blushes even more when he follows Scott’s trail of vision.

It's the sweater that Scott gave him, lying in a crumpled heap on top of the desk.

“Yeah,” he says, stepping back a little. “I wore it, like, maybe once or twice? If you call everyday that I didn’t see you once or twice. Sorry,”

Scott turns to face him, a small smile on his face. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because. I never gave it back, and now I feel stupid because when I didn’t see you I wore it and now you think I’m an idiot and okay,”

Scott starts shaking his head when Liam starts to back away, burying his face in his hands and sitting down on the bed that’s in the corner. Scott follows him.

“I’m glad you wore it,” he says, and Liam shakes his head, face still hidden. Scott can see that his ears are red, tries not to find it incredibly adorable and endearing. “That’s what I gave it to you for,”

“I know,” Liam mumbles, “but everyday that I didn’t see you? You think I’m… dumb,”

“No,” Scott says, and the sincerity in his voice makes Liam look up. “I wanted you to wear it. I don’t find it dumb. I find it cute,”

“Aw, man,” Liam practically shrinks away, body falling all the way on the bed so he’s stretched out. “Aw, no.”

“What?”

“This is too much,” Liam says, “my stomach is like, fuckin’ flipping or some shit. It’s like—”

“Third grade all over again,” 

Liam looks over at Scott, sees the fondness in his face, the sincerity and sunshine pouring out of him. 

“Yeah,” Liam says, voice soft and small in the still air, “third grade.”

Scott watches as Liam pulls himself up, feels as he wraps himself around him. And Scott leans forward again, and Liam situates himself so he’s comfortable in Scott’s lap, the moonlight bright and shining behind Scott’s eyes.

When he opens his eyes, Liam’s face is half shadow and half light again, his hands steady and cold on Scott’s chest, and Liam nods. 

“You sure?” Scott asks, and his stomach flutters when Liam’s hands tighten around his shirt. “You don’t have—”

“Scott,” Liam says, voice a soft whisper, full of fondness, “shut the hell up.”

And Scott does.

He kisses Liam’s forehead and his collarbones, listens to his heartbeat flutter and stop, flutter and pick up speed, beat and beat and beat inside his ribcage, mirroring his own. He kisses his shoulders, the fuzzy lines of his palms in the bright moonlight. Mason’s not coming back tonight, Liam says, he’s gone with his boyfriend, thank god. Scott laughs, listens to Liam’s breath hitch and his own filter into the night air when he kisses Liam’s hipbones, his stomach.

He thinks waiting was worth it.

♡

Liam winds up being curled up in front of Scott, legs wrapped around Scott’s, hands cold but body warm.

They’ve been sitting like this for the past half hour, just listening to the other breathe, their heartbeat settle down, veins thrumming to a beat only the two share.

Liam is playing with Scott’s hands, bringing the palm up to kiss his fingers every now and then, and Scott watches him, looks at the dip of his nose and the furrow of his eyebrows, like he’s got something on his mind.

Liam takes a deep breath before he says anything, lets it all out in a rush.

“When did you know?”

“Hm?”

“When did you know?”

Scott turns to face the ceiling, can feel Liam’s eyes on the side of his face. He shrugs, the movement making the blanket rustle.

“I dunno,” Scott says, whisper-soft, “I guess around the time that you took me to the coffee shop,” 

Liam hums, stilling his hand that’s entwined with Scott’s, splaying them both out in the middle of their bodies. Scott looks at the contrast of their skin, Liam’s palm sitting beneath his. He’s fidgeting, body restless.

“What about you?”

“Hm?” Liam looks up at Scott, squints his eyes slightly before his eyebrows raise. “Oh. Um, I guess. I guess when you didn’t show up those last couple of weeks. Like, I suddenly wanted to see your face again, go up to the roof with you. I missed talking to you, and I guess the reason why I got so angry when you showed up that first night after you didn’t speak to me was that there was just a lot on my mind. I was in a dilemma, because after you not showing I just kinda figured you didn’t like me, or wouldn’t ever like me in that way.”

Scott stares at him, looks at the way his eyes are shifting up at the ceiling, staring at the shafts of moonlight that splay themselves all over the place, restless and sleepy. He sees the fading purple marks on his neck, a stark contrast to his pale skin, can feel the warmth of his body next to him.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Scott says after a beat, and Liam nods, brings his eyes back up to Scott’s face. “I swear, Liam, I didn’t.”

“I know,” Liam whispers, “you don’t seem like the type of person to go around breaking hearts.”

Scott snorts. “I am the type to pine from afar until it gets painful, though.”

“I can tell,”

“Don’t be mean,”

“I’m not.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Exactly,”

Liam rolls over suddenly, the weight of the bed shifting slightly when he moves. He tucks his head underneath Scott’s chin, places their hands on Scott’s stomach, breathes in and out deeply, evenly. Scott kisses the crown of his head, closes his eyes.

“Did you ever wonder why I’m always on the roof?”

Scott makes a soft humming noise in the back of his throat, concentrating on the weight of Liam next to him, his steady breathing.

“I go to think,”

“Think about what?”

Liam shrugs, the movement jostling Scott’s limbs. He opens his eyes, looks over at the wall as Liam continues. “I dunno. Freshman year in college, the future because it’s so close, y’know? I thought about my parents, thought about math equations, thought about how I’ll surprise my parents for the holidays. Little things that seem to only cross your mind when you’re alone,”

Scott hums again, and Liam sidles up closer beside him, and Scott brings his free hand up to Liam’s hair, runs his fingers through the messy strands. “I like talking to you,” Scott says, and Liam lets out a soft breath of a laugh.

“It started with a party, of all things.”

“Yep.”

“I’m glad it did, though,”

“Definitely.”

“I like looking at the stars, too,” 

Scott feels his heartbeat flutter before he says the next words, positive that Liam can hear it. 

“I like looking at you, looking at the stars.”

Liam goes still, but then a second later he’s staring up at Scott, chin propped on Scott’s chest. His eyes are glittering like two jewels in the pale moonlight, and Scott gives him a dopey smile.

“Now you get to do it all the time.”

“I’ll be glad to,”

**Author's Note:**

> if you have any questions or anything, im over [here](http://kihongleez.tumblr.com) ok yay


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